


Fine

by dragyn42



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Addams Family (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:02:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragyn42/pseuds/dragyn42
Summary: A crossover AU. When a couple’s families get together, sometimes they get along, sometimes they clash, and sometimes...





	Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Exchange: smutty_claus 2018  
> To: The smutty_claus community
> 
> Mod Notes: This extra post was a gift submitted specifically as a gift to the whole community from one of our fantastic participants. We hope you enjoy and all the best wishes for the New Year!

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted everyone together for the holidays.”

“I know, I know. What I don’t know is what the hell I was thinking. Why did you let me do that?!”

“I love your family. I love my family. Seemed like a good idea to me.”  
Ginny stared at her boyfriend of several years, incredulous at the thought that it would be a ‘good idea.’ Then she took a breath, thought about his family, and, as she should have realized right away, understood he really did see nothing wrong with it. Harry truly was the sweetest, kindest, most noble, selfless boy on the face of the planet, and if she loved him any more, her heart would explode in her chest. But his family had certainly imparted to him a very bizarre sense of, well, ‘good.’

“Harry. My love. The last time the twins got together with your sister… St. Mungo’s still has no idea how to stop those people from screaming.”

Harry shrugged at her, slinking closer. His hands caressed her shoulders, the smooth material of her shirt sliding against her skin. She almost missed his response, “They were Death Eaters; who cares,” despite the fact it was whispered in her ear. His face burrowed in her hair while his spoken word caressed her neck. Ginny was unsure if this was something he inherited from his birth father, learned from his real father (or possibly even his godfather,) or something he came by naturally, but she was instantly putty in his hands.

“But… uh…. Oh!” Ginny tried to say something, but Harry’s attentions had her completely sidetracked.

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled into her jaw.

Harry licked her earlobe, flicking it with his tongue, and then catching it in his teeth. He bit down, just hard enough to cause a quick, sharp pain, but cause no damage. Ginny had never thought that pain was a thing she would be in to, and she wasn’t, not really, not unless it was with Harry. There was something about the way he loved her, the way he showed her new ways to love, that caused anything he did to her to shoot straight into her.

He scraped his teeth lightly along her jaw and sucked at her chin. And, as he moved up to kiss her mouth, she was taken by surprise when he placed his hands flat on her chest, just above her breasts but below her shoulders, and shoved her with not insignificant force. She stumbled backwards, his hands never separating from her, until her back slammed into the wall, the impact shocking its way through her. The wave left her front, seemingly through her nipples, leaving them painfully hard in its wake.

“Oh! God, Harry,” she panted through his kisses. “How do you do that.”

Instead of answering, he kept kissing her, licking her teeth, biting her lips. He slid his hands down, still never losing contact, and squeezed, drawing a moan from Ginny. He kneaded at her, massaging her breasts deeply with powerful fingers. And then he pinched. It was at her perfect point of relaxation, settling back into what Harry had to offer her, that his thumbs and index fingers clamped onto her still tingling nipples, the sharp sensations shooting straight down.

Without missing a breath, Harry moved one of his hands down, his deft fingers manipulating the belt and button on her jeans. In short order, they were undone, and the buttons on the fly front followed suit. He followed up with his other hand, placing each at the waistband on either of her hips, and simultaneously pushed her against the wall with his chest and shoved her jeans down her legs.

As tightly fit as her jeans were, there was a bit of scraping. But with the impact and pressure of Harry squeezing her against the wall, the sensation was lost in the warmth of everything else that he had been building up in her, shooting straight into her center. She absently even noticed a bit of wet that now dampened her knickers.

Harry placed one hand behind Ginny’s head, tangling his fingers in her red locks, and pulling her face into his. His other hand, she could feel moving around, brushing and moving at random against her knickers. Moments later, she felt him move the damp material to the side as he lined himself up with her and, with no time to prepare, he entered her completely with one stroke.

Ginny screeched into Harry’s mouth, trying to arch against him, but held in place by the entirety of Harry’s larger mass. He wrapped, or rather threaded, his other arm between the small of her back and the wall, and began to pound into her. There was no buildup, he already gave her that. There was no adjustment, just sensation. He drove himself into her, hard and fast, repeatedly, with the wall giving her no reprieve. An explosion built in her, the kindling his previous actions igniting her from her very essence.

The fire built, and built, and the half-a-minute that it had only been felt like forever, before everything inside her shattered.

But it wasn’t over, because Harry had kept going, straight through her little death. And he was still going. The orgasm that consumed her never had time to relax, and her muscles never had a chance to loosen. It was like fighting an ocean current. Instantly, everything was building in her again, Harry hammering away into her, and she exploded again. And while trying to breath, Harry still kissing her, and not enough air available through her nose, darkness encroached and she exploded again.

This time, though, as she felt her grasp on consciousness slow slip away, she noticed Harry had stopped, and was now pressed the whole way into her. Under her hands, blindly, weakly scrabbling for purchase, his muscles felt like rock. It was then she noticed that he was pulsing inside of her, grunting against her mouth, filling her with all that was him.

And then they were both done. Harry collapsed, leaning onto her, his weight holding her exhausted body upright against the wall. They were both panting heavily.

Ginny didn’t know how he did it, but suddenly, she felt Harry twist, and then his arm was sweeping her up behind her knees. He was holding her bridal style, marching her down the hall and to their bedroom. Then, somewhat unceremoniously, he dropped onto the bed, letting her bounce.

She was now laid out in a very not lady-like position. Her legs were splayed wide, Harry’s spend leaking out from her. Harry didn’t seem to mind at all – he never did – and in fact seemed to take great pleasure in putting her in that position as often as he could. For her part, Ginny certainly appreciated his efforts; it most certainly took her mind off things. Of course, as her pleasant buzz slowly faded away, the realities that had triggered Harry’s therapy encroached back upon her awareness.

“Uuungghhh,” she vocalized, not quite sure what else to say.

Harry, now stripping off his clothes, simply smirked at her.

“Okay. In your infinite wisdom, you say it will be fine.”

“It will,” he repeated with a confidence that always sent a tingle through her. 

Of course, with that tingle, she clenched a little in pleasure and a bit more of Harry came dribbling out. “Fine,” she said.

“Always, my love.”

“And so help me, at no point should your sister be left alone with the twins.”

This time, Harry actually seemed to ponder for a moment. Ginny couldn’t figure out whether she should be amused at his consternation, or annoyed – or possibly even terrified – that he actually had to think about it.

“Fine,” he finally decided, climbing into the bed next to her. He pressed his nude form up against her, and growled into her ear, “But I get you, alone, for a whole day. No work, no sports, no family.”

“Sounds lovely, but I’m not sure I’m necessarily the problem with that. Your sister might have other plans.”

“Never you mind her. I have plans of my own,” he replied.

Ginny couldn’t tell if he was still pondering his sister and the twins, or his own plans, which suddenly made her realize… “No. No no no no. Don’t tell me-”

“Why not?”

Ginny wondered if the twins might have been a better option.

* * *

She had no idea, whatsoever, where his stamina came from, but she certainly wasn’t complaining. She woke up to Harry entering her, and never really had the chance to enter reality. All she really knew from moments before her eyes opened was Harry’s cock in her, filling her fully and repeatedly. Her entire, current, waking mind was enveloped in the sensations of pure, raw fucking, and she loved it.

All too soon, or maybe that was just her sex addled consciousness thinking, because she truly had no idea how long it had been, her world shattered. It crackled all over her body in hundreds of micro explosions. Every erogenous zone in her body set off synchronously, and she was lost. But slowly, the waking world finally began to encroach on her consciousness, long after she actually awoke.

It took her a while to gain enough wherewithal to look at the clock. It was still morning, but not by much. While it was her idea to get everyone together, their flat was in no way big enough for the two families, (it was barely big enough for one of them,) and her mother had volunteered the Burrow. She was certainly ecstatic to have everyone back home under one roof.

Noticing that her lover had drifted off, curled around her as he now was, she jiggled herself a bit to shake him. “Harry. Love. You have to get up.”

“As much as I love you, you’ll have to give me a couple minutes,” replied Harry. “You could always help...”

“No! Not up. Up! We have to get ready to go!”

“Oh. Well, that’s not nearly as much fun.”

Recovering from sex with Harry was a long, if pleasurable, process, and it took all her effort to heave herself over and straddle him. While Harry was certainly not a tanned person, he had repeatedly told her he loved the staring at her skin and how it contrasted so drastically with his own. As expected, he stared longingly at her still slightly reddened vulva and her pale legs where they pressed against his skin.

She placed a delicate fingernail at his collar and drew it slowly, sensually down his torso. She knew her actions had their desired effect when his breathing briefly faltered and she felt another point of contact pressing into and sliding up her arse-cheek. Smiling seductively, she said, “See? Plenty easy to get up. Now, get up. We can have fun later.”

Sauntering into the bathroom, she heard Harry complain, “Witch!” and responded, “Yup!”

She was finishing up brushing her teeth, rinsing out her mouth, when Harry finally made his way into the bathroom. He casually caressed her back, following it up with a slap to her buttocks, and mumbled, “You’re spending too much time with my mother.”

“You love it.”

“Didn’t say otherwise.”

* * *

Ginny came out of the floo and promptly turned to catch Harry as he came flying through. The stared into each other’s eyes, momentarily forgetting they were not at their home when a voice interrupted them.

“How many years have you been living in this depressing, cesspool of a country, stuck with these bizarre people? When are you going to learn how to use the fireplace?”

Harry, not really looking away from Ginny, simply responded, “Wednesday.”

Before the speaker could respond, two more people came into the living room from the direction of the kitchen.

“Harry, old boy! How are you, son?” said Harry’s father. “And Ginevra, such beauty. It was truly a shame for you to have kept it from us.”

Harry’s father stepped up and pulled Ginny away by the shoulder, hugging her exuberantly. Something about the man always put Ginny off balance. She didn’t dislike him, not at all, it was honestly hard to dislike the man, but he just always managed to put her on a back foot.

“Gomez, dear, leave the poor girl alone,” said the other newcomer, Harry’s mother. And just as she was let go, she was pulled into another, much less aggressive hug. “Ginny, we were starting to wonder if you would make it.”

“Sorry, Morticia,” Ginny said, stepping backwards from the embrace, but still holding to Morticia’s arms while looking up to meet her gaze. “We were distracted and lost track of time.”

The tall, stately woman eyed Ginny up and down, and the tiniest of smiles graced her lips. “I see. Well, ‘tis the season.”

Just then, a rather perturbed clearing of a throat came from Ginny’s mother. Ginny was fully aware of her mother’s opinion on hers and Harry’s co-habitation. And she certainly didn’t appreciate reminders of their unmarried activities. She kept her opinions to herself – mostly – but it wasn’t really a secret.

Ginny stepped away from Harry’s mother and finally got her first good look at the room. Her parents had put up all the family’s standard decorations: fairy lights sparkled from the tree in the corner; garlands of fir and tinsel lined the walls; stockings for all the children, whether they lived at the Burrow or not, hung from the mantle over the fireplace. Sprigs of mistletoe were nailed to the wall and were trying desperately to pull away.

Of course, it seemed Harry’s family brought their own additions as well. Several wreaths made from the desiccated and hardened remains of some long forgotten species of thorny vine adorned the walls. If Ginny had to guess, they were probably the same hundred year old wreaths Fester had once told her his grandfather had made after he single handedly cut down hundreds of meters of the ravenous plant when clearing more room for their family cemetery.

She took all this in quickly so as to not keep her mother waiting. She exchanged hugs and greetings with her parents, her mother’s genial smile belied by her disapproving glare, while listening to Harry greet his parents.

“Morticia, Gomez. Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas? Oh, my, what a strange language these British have.”

“They speak English, Father, same as us,” replied Wednesday.

“Yes, same as us,” agreed Harry. “And hello to you, too, Wednesday. Depressing, cesspool of a country?”

Wednesday cocked her eyebrow at him, leading him to remind her, “I live here, you know.”

“I never said it was a bad thing.”

“So, where’s everyone else?” asked Harry.

“Fester went to Cousin Itt’s, though he may be along later. It depends on how much kerosene they have available,” said Morticia. “Thing is at home, giving a hand to the carolers. And Pugsley is outside with the twins.”

That caught Ginny’s attention. She interrupted her benign greetings with her father and looked over. “Did you say Pugsley was with Fred and George?”

“Those are the... blokes? Yes, blokes. Those are the blokes they’re with,” answered Gomez. “I really do like this language.”

“It’s English, Father. Same as us,” said Wednesday.

“Harry...” warned Ginny.

“What? Wednesday’s right here,” he pointed out. “I still get my day, right?”

Molly had gone from annoyed to confused. “What are you two-”

She was cut off when a loud explosion, originating from outside the house, shook everything down to the foundations. Several pictures fell off the mantle; the tree swayed where it stood. A low rumbling followed that had Ginny worrying the house would simply shake apart. When the sound eventually died down, and the sofas had finished dancing across the floor, the silence was momentarily complete, followed by a familiar voice.

“That! Was! Awesome!!!”

Silence reigned once again until Molly finally regained her senses. “Oh,” was all she said.

“Boys,” sighed Morticia with a fond smile gracing her lips. “They never grow up.”

* * *

The families both sat around the large dining table. Ron and Hermione, along with Bill and a heavily pregnant Fleur had shown up. Charlie had been unable to get off of work, and Percy was spending time with Aubrey’s family. In the middle of the table was a giant turkey, along with platters of potatoes, stuffing, and vegetables.

“So, Arthur, my dear man. Do you do grace, or serve, or how you do celebrate over here?” inquired Gomez.

“I have an idea,” said Ginny. “It’s the season of family and togetherness, and we have it in abundance. So, taking a page from our American friends from a few weeks ago, why don’t we each come up with what we’re grateful for?”

There were nods and smiles around the table, except for Wednesday who Ginny couldn’t ever remember smiling, though Harry had told her it had happened, rarely. So Ginny continued, “I’ll start:

“I’m grateful first and foremost for my family. They have always been there for me, no matter what. And I’m grateful for Harry. Not only is he the best boyfriend I could ever ask for, I’m not exaggerating when I say I wouldn’t be here if not for him. I’m not sure there has ever been another eleven year old boy who took on a sixty foot basilisk to rescue a girl he never met. But Harry did exactly that. I had no idea what possessed him to actually jump into its mouth, or why he thought casting an explosion jinx from inside a snake would be ‘fun’ – his words – but I am forever grateful.”

Harry spoke up next. “I feel they know it, but I will always be thankful that Morticia and Gomez agreed to take in a poor, abused boy they found in the park. I’m still not entirely sure what they were doing in England, or Surrey, but it doesn’t matter to me. They took me away from the horrid people who looked after me for seven years, barely, and then they taught me about the true meaning of family – not to mention pain, suffering, and death, for which I am also grateful. They have made it clear that Lily and James Potter were, are, and always will be my parents, but I hope they know that I consider them to be as well.”

Morticia graced him with a subtle, yet loving smile, while Gomez’s own grin went from ear to ear. Even Pugsley was smiling at Harry, while Wednesday simply nodded.

Arthur picked up next. “I’ve always believed family is something you make, and, blood or not, we have family aplenty. For that, we are blessed with an abundance of family that are happy and healthy. I could ask nothing more, absolutely nothing, and for that, I am grateful.”

“I couldn’t add anything else,” said Molly, looking at Ginny. “Except this: we may argue and disagree, but we don’t have to agree on everything to love each other. Your happiness is more important to me than anything. So, forgive an old woman her beliefs, and know that above all, I love you. And if you’re happy, than I’m grateful.”

Ginny felt a tear slip down her face as she smiled at her mother. Her mother finished, though, by saying, “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to let it alone.”

There was a ripple of laughter around the table.

And so it went. The twins each also were grateful for family – especially those who appreciated a good boom; Bill was pleased with new family, Fleur for old friends; Morticia was happy for all of the family, living and… other; Pugsley was thrilled he had such interesting siblings; Gomez was grateful that, despite his son moving across the ocean to another country, they were still able to understand each other when they spoke (“It’s English, Father, same as us,” said Wednesday); and Wednesday was grateful that no one was actually going to make her say anything else.

Food was passed around, plates were filled, and the family Christmas meal was started. The food was plentiful and well received and, despite a couple comments (“Why don’t we have to stab it first?” asked Gomez, and, “Are you sure it can’t use just a dash of hemlock?” Wednesday inquired of Molly,) the meal went surprisingly better than Ginny expected.

* * *

Harry and Ginny were sitting happily on the roof. It was an old access from a hidden eaves space that had a door out to the top of the house. Bill said it had been there for as long as he could remember, and the children always used it as an escape. It was a place they set everything aside – arguments, rivalries, pranks – and were just family.

“I told you it would be fine,” said Harry.

“Not that I want to doubt you, love, but it’s not over yet,” Ginny responded.

“Eh, details.”

“Are you jumping?”

Ginny could only wonder how she found her way here.

“No, Wednesday, just sitting,” said Harry.

“That’s boring.”

“Sorry to disappoint. Why don’t you go stab Pugsley?”

“It’s Christmas, he’d expect it. Takes the fun out of it.”

Ginny had no idea what possessed her, and she regretted it the second the words were out of her mouth, but she couldn’t stop herself from suggesting, “Why not blow up the twins?”

“I thought about it. But it would be a waste.”

“So you thought you’d come disturb us?” asked Harry.

“I was hoping she would be alone so I could rid you of her.”

“It wouldn’t get you what you want,” said Harry.

“Or who,” mumbled Ginny.

“One obstacle at a time,” said Wednesday, shrugging.

“Oooh! Are we having a private party?”

Ginny didn’t even look over. “It was a lot more private a moment ago.”

“I told you so,” said Harry.

“Okay, grandmaster planner. What now?” asked Ginny.

No response was forthcoming, so she watched as Luna and Harry’s sister stared at each other. Wednesday looked like she was figuring out how deep to dig the hole to hide Luna. Luna… Luna looked at Wednesday as if she were looking at Wednesday.

“Can I kill her, Harry?”

“Promises are promises,” said Harry.

“Ooh, she broke silence first!” exclaimed Luna. “What do I win?”

Wednesday glared at the blonde.

“How about her?” said Harry.

“Oooooooooh,” said Luna.

“I’m going to kill you, Harry,” said Wednesday.

“No you won’t,” said Harry.

Any response by Wednesday was cut off when Luna drew herself straight into Wednesday’s face, staring into her eyes once more. Then, with no warning, Luna kissed her nose – just a peck, right on the tip.

“I like her!” announced Luna.

“I hate you,” said Wednesday. Ginny wasn’t entirely sure who she was talking to.

Luna wrapped her arms around the tiny brunette in a very tight hug, though Wednesday managed to get her arm free. With it, she procured a dagger from Ginny didn’t know where, and tried to stab Luna in the back. But, at that very moment, Luna released her embrace and held Wednesday by her waist at arms length, causing the dagger to instead swipe by Luna’s ear, missing her by a hair’s width.

“We’re going to have great fun!” decided Luna, only then noticing the knife. She grabbed Wednesday’s wrist and pulled the blade close in to her face. “Pretty. Damascened. Syrian? Yes… Ritual.”

The fight seemed to have momentarily left Wednesday at Luna’s fascination. It was only briefly, though, as she twisted her wrist and broke it from Luna’s grasp. In a single motion, she brought it back around to swipe at the blonde once more, but Luna had apparently spun herself to Wednesday’s side, opposite her stabbing arm, and held her in close, wrapping her near arm around Wednesday’s back, and splaying the same hand across Wednesday’s stomach.

“I bet,” Luna whispered into Wednesday’s ear, using her thumb and pointer finger to subtly tug at Wednesday’s tight blouse, while her little finger appeared to be – unsuccessfully – trying to independently wiggle its way down, “That it slices through fabric extremely well. Shall we go see?”

Luna guided Wednesday back off the roof spot as quickly as either of them had arrived.

“That,” said Ginny, staring wide eyed at where the girls had just stood. “Was amazing.”

“I told you it would be fine,” said Harry. “I hope she has a good time.”

“Your sister or Luna?”

Harry simply looked at Ginny, his eyebrow crooked.

“Fair enough,” answered Ginny. “Did you know that would happen?”

Harry slid in closer to Ginny, though it was a difficult feat considering how close they already were. “Luna has always been quite open,” he whispered inter her ear, almost, but not quite a growl. “And Wednesday needs someone who can keep up with her.”

“She thought that was you,” said Ginny. “She wanted it to be.”

“I probably could have, but I wanted you.”

Ginny whimpered. She loved it when Harry took her, claimed her. It wasn’t ownership, or thinking less of her for being a girl, not from him. It was just who he was, how he was raised. He respected everyone, no matter sex, race, or creed, who would prove themselves worthy of him. And he claimed to her years ago that she was the only person on Earth that wasn’t just worthy of him, but that he wasn’t worthy of. So, he took what he wanted, in this case her, and it spoke to something deep inside her that she never knew was there before him. It connected them.

She turned into him and grabbed the back of his head, pulling him into her, kissing him desperately. She liked taking control, and occasionally he even let her keep it. But the truth was she relished his forcefulness. He wove his fingers into her hair and tugged. Not hard enough to pull her away, but she felt it in her scalp, the sudden shock of it like static, falling through her face.

Pulling against him, forward, she continued to ravish his mouth. But, try as she might, he had other ideas. He pulled harder on her hair, applying more and more tension until she had to separate from him, though he did not do the same. As she went backwards to her elbows, he kept kissing down her neck, licking and sucking at the available skin of her chest.

The pleasurable pain on her scalp disappeared without warning, leaving her leaning backwards, as his hands came around and forcefully grabbed her breasts through her top. He wasn’t gentle as he squeezed and kneaded, and she found herself arching into his ministrations. Harry probably could have kept this up for hours, (and, in fact, had,) but the roof was extremely uncomfortable on her elbows.

Leaning back was all the signal Harry needed. He flipped up her skirt, which was modest while she was standing, but still only a skirt as she lay on her back. Then, working quickly, he undid his fly, pulled out his cock, and moved her knickers to the side. Ginny was humming with anticipation as Harry pushed into her, spreading her, filling her. It was the most amazing, satisfying thing she had ever felt, every time he did it.

He was then leaning over her, his hands on her skirt where it fell next to waist on either side, and staring deep into her brown eyes. Ginny let the feeling of him taking her consume her, allowing herself to fall into the glinting emeralds focused upon her. Her own clothing, under his weight, bound her in place against the rooftop as he drove into her again. She could feel her breasts rock on her chest, despite her bra, her nipples poking against the material that held them.

Harry continued to forcefully drive into her, repeatedly. The pleasure grew in her, slowly, as the delicious friction inside of her stoked her, stretched her. She relished it, reveled in it. She could feel it deep in her belly, tingling from her breasts to her fingers, shooting from her cheeks to her toes. The sensations grew stronger, expanding within her, steadily.

She could feel her clit, thrumming and throbbing with every thrust, every time his hips impacted hers, like thunder inside of her. The heat in her belly was soon everywhere, burning, electrifying. Every nerve end, every erogenous point of her body, was on the edge of explosion, and now the black was encroaching the green that still filled her sight.

And then she ruptured. The skin of her sanity ripped open as her orgasm blazed throughout her body, her very being. White blotted out green. Inside her, she felt him still, moving, sliding, as she involuntarily squeezed down on him. Her muscles tensed and she couldn’t even breath, much less cry out.

Harry kept pushing through, though. Pounding, now faster and faster. The giant explosion that was her consciousness rippled into many tiny ones, non-stop. And then she felt it. Harry’s rhythm broke. He jerked into her, a staccato drumming on her clit. Inside, he was now further into her than she though possible, and she could feel him expand, throb, erupt, repeatedly.

Still inside of her, Harry fell onto Ginny, covering her heavily breathing body with his. Ginny might have thought that Harry on top of her, pressing her into the fairly uncomfortable roof would have been unpleasant, but the truth was, at that moment, she wanted nothing more than to have Harry press into her, be a part of her, be as close as humanly possible, and then closer still. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled tight.

“Told you,” mumbled Harry.

“You did,” agreed Ginny.

From the house underneath them, which was actually Percy’s old room, came a long, loud, piercing, female shriek.

“Do you want to…?” asked Harry.

“It’ll be fine,” decided Ginny.


End file.
